Not Just Friends
by SaraJ
Summary: I'm lousy. I can't play to save my life. What was I thinking?" So, what WAS Ron thinking? Well, Hermione's going to find out. Set mid-OotP.


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Not Just Friends

~ SaraJ ~

Summary: "I must've been mental to do this…Mental…I'm rubbish," croaked Ron. "I'm lousy. I can't play to save my life. What was I thinking?" So, what was Ron thinking? Well, Hermione's going to find out. Set mid OotP.

Author's Note: Yes, it's yet another R/Hr fic. See, I'm a firm believer in sticking with the ships that work. You know, combos like Mulder/Scully, Buffy/Angel (though I did have a certain affinity for Buffy/Spike for a while), or (in support of a distraught friend) Sydney/Vaughn. I gotta go with what JKR gives me, people! It's all about Ron and Hermione…they are beyond cute! 

This one's got more fluff than my last HP fic, which I highly recommend as well. ;) And BTW, thanks bunches to all that reviewed "The Inevitability of Us," you guys ROCK! So read and enjoy everyone, a lot of effort went into this one: I mean, I had to distract myself in Biopsychology and everything. Hehe.

Disclaimer: Oh, by the way, did I mention I don't own anything and J.K. Rowling is a goddess. And is anyone else already pining away for book 6??

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When Ron entered the common room after Quidditch practice that evening, she knew he was in a horrible mood. Everyone in the common room knew it. In fact, Hermione was quite sure that the whole school, if not all of Britain, knew it. Not that this was anything new of course, Ron often came back from practice looking sullen and morose. Tonight, however, she was particularly anxious because it was their turn on Prefect duty, and she really didn't like patrolling with him when he was in so rotten a mood.

"Ron," she approached carefully as he was walking, or storming depending on your take on it, past toward the boy's dormitories. "We're on duty tonight, remember."

"I remember," he snapped back. He must have caught the sharpness in her glare then, because he backed down, lowering his voice as he added, "Just give me half an hour, okay?"

She nodded and went to sit in one of the armchairs by the fire. Harry, who naturally hadn't been at the practice due to his lifelong ban given by horrid Professor Umbridge, looked at her sympathetically.

"Good luck with that one tonight," Harry said, chucking a thumb back toward the boy's staircase, up which Ron had disappeared. Fred and George, who had been conspiring in another area of the common room, ambled over to their conversation.

Hermione shook her head, rolling her eyes. "He's insufferable, really. He's not that bad."

"I know," Harry said defensively. "But try convincing him of that!"

"Yeah," Fred added. "Right stubborn that one is."

"Always has been, really," George said. "Most unfortunate."

"Well it might help if he had a little more encouragement," she defended scathingly. "Maybe if you put a bit less emphasis on _winning_…As if the world would end if Gryffindor didn't win the Quidditch Cup."

One might have though that she'd suddenly morphed into Umbridge, the way the three boys were gaping at her. But it was Fred who recovered first, his thunderstruck expression changing to a sly smirk in an instant.

"Yes well, maybe it's not us who should be _encouraging_ him, Hermione," Fred suggested, exchanging a sly look with George.

George caught on immediately, also smirking "Yeah, this situation might need a more…feminine touch, you know."

Hermione rolled her eyes again, trying to keep the blush out of her cheeks.

Harry, however, looked at the twins as if they may really be onto something. Hermione probably would be the better choice for knocking some sense into Ron. Girls were always better at that sort of thing. After a moment though, their words must have really sunk in, because he smiled as well and added, "You, know Hermione, maybe they're right. I mean, coming from _you_—"

"Oh be quiet all of you, I'm trying to study," she finally snapped.

"Your book's not open," Harry pointed out.

She glared at him and opened the book in front of her, bending over it and pretending to read.

"Um, Hermione…That book's upside down."

As gracefully as possible in such a situation, and without so much as a glance at any of them, Hermione turned the book right side up. Harry, Fred and George all started snickering.

~

By the time Ron returned, having showered and changed back into his school robes for patrol, Fred, George and Harry were over their fits of laughter and back to working silently.

"Ready to go?" Ron asked Hermione.

"Yes," she said, rising from her chair and putting her things away. As she followed Ron out of the portrait hole, she saw Fred and George both give her a thumbs up. Harry, wisely, hid behind another smirk but did nothing.

For close to an hour, they patrolled the halls in silence. They passed the entrances to the different house common rooms and the Great Hall, occasionally checking empty classrooms along the way. They were on their way up the many stairs leading to the Astronomy Tower when Hermione decided to break the silence. She could tell that Ron was still a bit upset, and though she didn't believe Fred and George's suggestion that she could make any better impact on his mood, she still felt that as a friend she should try to help.

"So," she started cautiously, "How was practice?"

"Lousy," he grumbled.

"You always say that," she sighed. Why was he so stubborn?

"Well it's always true!" he snapped at her. He caught the hurt look that flitted across her face, though it was quickly disguised by anger, and he began to feel bad for yelling at her. She really wasn't trying to start a fight. Before she could snap back, his voice softened into something more self-deprecating.

"I don't know why I even bothered to try out," he said, fixing his eyes on the stairs.

As irritatingly unnecessary as his pitying was, Hermione couldn't help but feel badly for him. "Honestly, Ron. You're not as bad as you seem to think you are."

"How would you know?"

She was trying very hard to keep her temper, but this was getting ridiculous. In as cool and comforting a voice as she could muster, she continued. "I have seen you play, you know. I've seen you out there with Harry and your brothers over the past few summer holidays. You do just fine then."

Ron felt his cheeks redden. Oh Merlin, why did he have to get all flustered when she complimented him? Honestly, what was with him? He tried to keep his face down so she wouldn't see the tinge. "That's different," he countered. "It's just play, it's not like it's a real game or anything."

"Well, I think that if you can play well when there's no pressure, then you can play well when there is. The talent is obviously there. You just need some confidence. It's just nerves, that's all. That, and you let Malfoy get to you."

He grimaced. Malfoy and his stupid song. As if he wasn't dealing with enough during that first match, of course that slimy git had to put his word in. Just couldn't resist an opportunity, Ron supposed.

And what was with Hermione tonight? Why was she being so supportive all of the sudden? Honestly, he'd never understand her. One day she was calling him an insensitive wart, and the next she was telling him she thought he was talented. Great, now he was getting all red in the face again. Oh, what did she know anyway? Playing Quidditch was entirely different when it was for real. She just didn't get it.

As Ron pushed open the door to the Astronomy tower, letting Hermione pass outside first, he told her, "Hermione, you may be one of the cleverest girls on the planet, but you just don't understand Quidditch."

This time she couldn't mask her offense. What was it with boys and Quidditch? First Harry was telling her she just "didn't understand" and now Ron. "Well I might not understand every minute detail of the game, and I could care less whether you played it or not; but I do know that it's important to you. You know, I'm only trying to help you do your best, but if you don't want to listen, then fine. Be rubbish. See if I care." She looked away from him a moment, not wanting him to see how hurt she was. After a moment of silence, she turned back, adding, "But there must have been some reason you wanted to play. And you wouldn't have thought to try out in the first place if you didn't think you had a shot."

Ron was trying not to gape at her during her tirade. He hadn't quite expected her reaction. Yes, he thought she'd fight with him, when weren't they fighting? But she actually sounded…hurt? And though she looked away fairly quickly, he thought her eyes looked a bit red. He cast his eyes upward. A thousand stars winked down on them, and a crescent moon was smiling, if rather lopsidedly.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, looking down guiltily and shuffling his feet a bit. "I mean, I know you're only trying…and thanks really, but…" he gave up with a dejected sigh. Bloody hell, he was just no good at this.

"Ron, why did you try out?" she asked, suddenly curious. He was always so down about it, saying he was rubbish or lousy. She wanted to know why he'd even thought to play in the first place if he really believed those things. She leaned casually against the low wall that ran around the tower, crossed her arms over her chest and waited patiently.

Ron seemed to look everywhere but at her. Why, why did she have to ask him that? She'll think it was stupid. He could see her laughing now. "Aren't we supposed to be patrolling," he stated, eager to change the subject. "Maybe we should just…"

"We're in the Astronomy Tower," she said plainly, not to be dissuaded. "It's one of the most likely places to catch students out of bed. Call it a stake out."

"A what?"

Hermione shook her head. Must be more of a Muggle term than she thought. "Nevermind. Answer the question."

Ron ran nervous fingers through his hair. How much should he tell her? His eyes cast around the tower, almost desperately looking for a way out. But nothing came. He gritted his teeth and spoke.

"I don't know, Hermione. I mean, I grew up with Quidditch, I guess I've always wanted to play. And I've got five older brothers and most of them played and I wanted to be like them." He realized on some level that he was ranting, but once he started, he couldn't seem to stop. The words just tumbled out of his mouth, an eager confession. 

"Merlin, Hermione, I'm the youngest boy and for so long I was just nothing. And there's Bill and Percy being Head Boys. And Charlie was the Quidditch star. And Fred and George are really good players, and they'll probably be infamous here, even if it is for rule breaking. And so I guess I just wanted to show that I could do all these things too. Hell, maybe I could even do more. But it's not just that really, I did think I had a fairly good shot at least. And then there's…"

He stopped suddenly, trying to resist the urge to clap his hand over his mouth, like he'd suddenly said too much.

Hermione tried not to look too shocked. Honestly, she hadn't expected him to say so much. She knew how overshadowed he felt, but she was still surprised by the sheer desperation in his voice. She hadn't expected his need to stand out to seem so obvious, he usually just hinted at it, trying to convince people it didn't really bother him.

But there was something else. She could tell by the look on his face that there was more he wanted to say, but he'd stopped.

"And?" she urged. "There's something else."

Ron shook his head dismissively. There was something else, but he couldn't tell her. It was too embarrassing. He moved to stand next to her, looking out onto the grounds below. She continued to lean facing the opposite direction, but her head turned to study his profile. "It's nothing," he said.

She studied his face for a good while, the set of his jaw, the furrow in his brow. Why was he being so difficult?

"No, it's something," she said sternly. "And it's something that's bothering you as well. You know, you don't have to be afraid to…"

His voice cut through hers, the question he'd pondered for months tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"Hermione, what do you see in Krum?" He made sure not to look at her as he spoke, still shocked he'd had the courage to ask.

She sighed angrily. This was just like him. He never wanted to give her a straight answer. "Ron, don't change the subj—" but she stopped suddenly, her eyes widened as it hit her. But there was no way he could think…

She sighed again, sadder this time, and she hung her head. "Ron," she whispered.

He took a chance and turned his head to watch her. After a moment, she looked up and met his gaze. His eyes were pleading. He wished she would answer him; the silence was doing little for his discomfort. He could feel his cheeks heating up again. Why did he have to say anything?

Hermione, however, was fighting between confusion and irritation. She knew perfectly well that she and Ron had a…unique friendship, but she didn't expect him to realize it. He was certainly quite clueless last year. And, honestly, how thick did he have to be to think that she…

But in the end, she took pity on him and decided to set the record straight.

"All right," she stated. "I'm only going to say this once, so listen up. Viktor and I are NOT seeing each other. At least, not in the way you seem to think." She was careful to keep eye contact the whole time she spoke, as if that would solidify her point.

Ron tried not to brighten too much at her words. He didn't want to get her angry after all. Though he was confused, "But all your long letters…?"

"We're _friends_. I mean to say, he's very nice and all. And yes, he did fancy me a bit. But I could never date him." She laughed a little, "He lives miles and miles away for one. And he's older, so we're not really at the same place in our lives. And," she paused a moment, looking a him significantly, "He's really just not my type."

Ron noticed his heart began to beat faster as she finished speaking, but he refused to get his hopes up. He was still slightly unconvinced. "So you're just friends?"

"_Yes_," she emphasized. Honestly, what would it take to get this through that thick skull? "You know, I'd think that judging by your own life, you'd be able to grasp the concept of boys and girls just being friends."

He chewed the inside of his cheek a bit, mulling over her words. A while ago, he would have agreed. But now he didn't know. He looked at Hermione and he felt…different. He couldn't quite explain it, really. It wasn't a bad feeling, not at all. But somehow, he thought that they had crossed some invisible line somewhere.

He turned his body around, leaning his back against the wall, mimicking her pose. They both stared at the opposite wall.

"We're not just friends," he stated finally, as if he'd just reached the conclusion himself.

Hermione tried not to smirk, but she couldn't resist a little teasing. "I'm just friends with Harry, then. Unless of course, you think I really do know what kind of kisser he is."

Ron blanched, but a sidelong glance her way told him she was kidding and he relaxed. He followed her lead. "Nah, Harry wouldn't do that. He knows better."

She tried to sound outraged, but it was obvious she was faking. Oh my, she thought, were they…_flirting?_ "Oh, so _Harry_ wouldn't do that, but maybe I would? What kind of person do you take me for, Ron Weas—"

But she didn't get to finish because Ron's lips covered hers in a nervous, but sweet kiss. It was short, as first kisses tend to be, but perfect nonetheless. He didn't know why he did it really. He was just watching her talk and something about the way her eyelashes were fluttering and the pout in her lips and…Bloody hell, did he really need a reason? Honestly that was just the latest in a whole series of reasons. He'd been trying to kiss her for months.

So when they pulled back, he looked at her sheepishly, fully expecting her mock outrage to turn serious in an instant. But she didn't say anything. She was watching him curiously.

"So, er, I was saying earlier," he stuttered, trying to fill the silence. "We're not just friends because…well, I," he swallowed. Now or never. "I fancy you a lot, Hermione."

For a moment, her face remained passive. But then she smiled, "I know."

What? She knew? How? Ron didn't know whether to look relieved or horrified. "You do?" he choked out.

"Of course. You're really quite obvious." It was true. He may have had a wealth of other excuses but she knew his disapproval of Viktor was jealously. She knew it from the start. And honestly, did he really think he was fooling anyone at the Yule Ball last year with his childish tirade?

Ron's eyes widened to near panic. "Oh," was all he could say. If she knew, and he really was that obvious, then how many other people knew?

"You know, we really should get back to the common room," she said simply, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She pushed herself away from the wall and started toward the door. After a moment, she turned back and saw Ron hadn't moved. He looked very confused, and almost pitiful.

With a small smile, she walked back to him. "Ron," she said, getting his attention. His brow furrowed. He didn't know what to expect.

Hermione stood on tiptoe and placed one hand lightly on his chest. She brought her lips to his, just long enough for him to respond. She moved away and he looked at her dazedly. She smiled again.

"I don't think we're just friends, either," she said, and she started back to the door.

It took a moment for everything to sink in, but when his brain finally processed everything, he knew what she meant. A wide, goofy grin appeared on his face as he hurried out of the tower after her.

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THE END J 

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